


AM 1:27

by bbytaebin



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Almost smut, Angst, Cheating, F/M, M/M, Making Out, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, lil freaky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 23:37:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11046711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbytaebin/pseuds/bbytaebin
Summary: Sicheng is a simple man. He sees Lee Taeyong at the door and he opens it.That may have been his downfall.





	AM 1:27

**Author's Note:**

> A WHOLE FUCKING MESS, is how I would describe this fic.  
> Why did i write this?  
> I like angst.  
> //  
> in order, the first paragraphs before the line are current and then the one after the line is a flashback, and it just alternates.  
> the html codes are being a bitch.

It all comes back flooding, like these memories are happening again, allowing him to feel them like they’re really there.  
This is no place to feel this way, especially not under these circumstances, and he knows it.  
He needs to clear his head if he’s going to go in there and do this, but all his fantasies stay against his will.  
Sicheng wants to reach out and grasp onto them, and hold onto them for however much longer he has left, but he can’t.  
His legs stay planted on the ground, as if drug down by weights.  
“Sicheng, are you coming?”  
It seems like his legs have given him no choice.  
He shakes his head.  
“You can’t just not come.”  
He knows that very well.  
He shrugs, not trusting his throat to make a voice sounding anywhere near fine.  
“Why aren’t you coming?”  
He shrugs again, because there’s a million reasons he could say right now without even a thought, but they burn his skin just in his mind, let alone coming out on his lips.  
“I-I need to do something, Kun. I’ll come in soon. Tell him.”  
Kun just walks away, and god Sicheng wishes he didn’t.

* * *

_It was a saturday night, and Sicheng was surfing through reruns on the television when there had been a knock on the door, loud and incessant, and after two minutes of it and an angry neighbour’s yell, he couldn’t ignore it any longer._  
He walked to the door with a protest in his mouth, but it died almost as quickly as it formed, a goofy smile on Taeyong’s face as he leaned forward against the door frame, almost falling flat on his face.  
“What are you doing here?”  
“Can’t a guy visi-” he stops to hiccup, “visit his best friend without being up to shenanigans?”  
Sicheng just shrugs, because this has happened before. All he needs to do is let Taeyong vent and eventually pass out on his couch.  
“Come in then.”  
“Thank you, sir.”  
Taeyong makes himself at home on the couch, and Sicheng goes and tries to find something in the kitchen because it’s almost one in the morning and he hopes he doesn’t have to cook anything.  
Taeyong is a gluttonous drunk. 

* * *

Should he bring a gift? Is it necessary? He really should have googled what happens at a bachelor party but he thought Kun would be here and he didn’t plan on the almost anxiety attack he’s having outside this bar.  
His eyes move to a few different places just in an effort to waste time before he has to go in there and face him.  
It’ll have been the first time he’s seen him since the incident, and he’s not sure how to react.  
Should he admit it was something he’s wanted for a while? Should he pretend it didn’t happen? Strangely enough, this hasn’t happened to him before.  
Shocking, right.

* * *

_“Sicheng, have you ever fallen in love?”_  
Sicheng halts his hand from where he reached up to grasp the instant ramen adorning his shelf, and pauses slightly.  
“N-No, not really. Why?”  
Taeyong just hums, fidgeting audibly with his jacket.  
His song choices are odd and specific.  
He hums the angsty tunes of breakup songs through the noise of the water boiling, and Sicheng almost crushes the ramen in his hand before it reaches the pot with his tense hand.  
Haeyoung had wanted a winter wedding, set amongst scenes with the ground painted white, despite the fact that Taeyong’s favourite season is summer. It’s December, and almost christmas for that matter. Sicheng doesn’t understand the appeal of getting your heels and dress wet in the snow.  
But, then again, there’s a lot of things Haeyoung does that Sicheng never could quite grasp.  
He can hear Taeyong coming towards the kitchen, but just ignores him. Taeyong’s probably just drunk wondering, and Sicheng isn’t really in the mood to humor him.  
Taeyong moves around a bit more, but Sicheng still continues to boil the water.  
“Hey, Sicheng-ah, pay attention to me!” Taeyong muses, a tinge of a pout to his voice.  
Sicheng grits his teeth, avoiding turning around and viewing the more-than-shitfaced boy.  
“Sicheng-ah, it’ll be really rewarding if you do.”  
Sicheng all but throws the fork he had in his hand down, and whips around, a yell of annoyance on the tip of his tongue, but it’s met with plush lips against his.  
To his and Taeyong’s surprise, he doesn’t pull away. 

* * *

He walks into the door of the bar, eyes scanning around for Kun or Johnny or hell, even Taeyong.  
“This isn't your scene, is it honey?” Some woman comes up to him, dragging her finger across his exposed collarbone, and he can feel someone’s eyes on the back of his head, and he knows Kun no longer gives a fuck where he is or what he's doing.  
Lee Taeyong has his eyes on him, burning, and when he turns around he meets his animalistic snarl with a coy smile.  
“Not really, is it yours?”  
He can tell she's a veteran and this is where she belongs, but god Taeyong’s eyes on his back like that make him shameless.  
“Not really baby, maybe we should leave?”  
Sicheng hums at her, biting his lip in a way he knows drives her, and their observer, mad.  
Taeyong comes stalking up to him, ripping him away from her.  
“Sorry he's a little drunk. He's with me.”  
Sicheng guiltily smiles, and lets Taeyong drag him across the dance floor and to a booth with Kun, Johnny, Hansol and Taeil.  
They all look at him like he's grown another head, and he himself is surprised with what he just pulled.  
Johnny speaks up first.  
“Dude, Taeyong, just because you're getting married doesn't mean our little trooper can't get some.”  
He stole the words right out of Sicheng’s slightly better educated mouth.  
“Sorry, hyung.”  
He says this mockingly, the corner of his mouth tilted towards the ceiling.  
Taeyong just scowls.

* * *

_Their mouths move in sync together, pressing harder as their need grows larger. Taeyong pushes against Sicheng, trying to find anything to grind against, and Sicheng gives it to him._  
Taeyong grasps Sicheng's cheeks, trying to pull his mouth closer, and Sicheng just stands there because it feels so wrong, but he can't force his lips away.  
He doesn’t quite know if he should pull away, even if he wanted to. Some part of his mind is telling him Taeyong wants him, and that’s why he’s here kissing him and not home and kissing his fianceé.  
He feels Taeyong try to pull himself even closer than before, but before Taeyong can grind on him any longer, Sicheng pulls away.  
They breathe heavy, looking into each other’s eyes, Taeyong smirking with his red lips slightly swollen with the punch of Sicheng’s lips.  
“We,” Sicheng breathes against Taeyong’s lips, “we can’t do this.”  
Taeyong ignores him, moving forward to kiss him again, but Sicheng forces himself to drag his lips away.  
Taeyong just shoves his face closer like he was expecting it, and this time Sicheng doesn’t pull away, but grabs his shirt and drags him closer.  
He gave him enough warnings.  
Taeyong begins to walk him backwards until Sicheng hits the couch with his ass, to which Taeyong counts to three in Sicheng’s mouth, picking him up, letting Sicheng wrap long legs around his waist.  
Taeyong pulls away just long enough to whisper six words in his ear, warm and hot against the shell.  
“I’ve waited so long for this.” 

* * *

Sicheng decides not to cause any more commotion at the table, and sits there quietly for an hour or two downing shots, baffling everyone who just watched him almost leave with a woman back to her house presumably to fuck.  
They look between him and Taeyong like there’s an invisible tennis match, until Taeyong makes an excuse to leave and somehow take Sicheng with him.  
Taeyong grabs onto his wrist, a little harshly but at this point Sicheng is too drunk to notice in the least.  
Sicheng stumbles, but Taeyong is too furious to care, but he doesn’t mind.  
They’re in a secluded hallway towards the bathroom before Sicheng has time to attempt--and most like fail--to sober up.  
“What the fuck were you doing?”  
Sicheng grins lazily at Taeyong, leaning against the wall behind him partly for stability on his drunk jello legs and partly for the aesthetic.  
“I need a date to your wedding, don’t I?”  
Taeyong’s face goes sour at the mention of the event taking place in seventy two hours, like he wants to never hear about it again.  
It makes Sicheng’s heart flutter with hope.  
“Don’t mention that, please, Sicheng.”  
“Why not? You and Haeyoung should be over the moon because of the weddi-”  
He doesn’t get to finish before lips are on his.

* * *

_He hits the soft mattress with a dull thud, Taeyong’s jacket hitting the floor not long after._  
At this point, Taeyong’s tongue is in his mouth and Sicheng can taste him and he just wants this moment to last forever.  
He can’t get enough of the man in front of him.  
Taeyong pulls away to breathe, but almost as soon as they part Sicheng is pulling him close again, but Taeyong’s lips don’t stay on his much longer before they start to wander, moving down to Sicheng’s neck and collarbone.  
He moans out Taeyong’s name, spurring him on, making him start biting at the skin instead of just kissing it.  
Taeyong sits up just to remove his shirt, and Sicheng doesn’t waste any time grabbing at the warm skin and feeling it under his fingertips.  
He sits up and moves Taeyong so that he is on top, and before he does anything else he just drinks in the sight of Taeyong underneath him.  
In the light of the open window of Sicheng’s apartment, Taeyong looks ethereal, eyes scrunched up in pleasure and mouth tilted open surrounded by red cheeks.  
Sicheng, instead of leaning down to kiss Taeyong again like he wants to so badly, he places his palms on Taeyong’s hot skin, drawing tight circles on Taeyong’s obvious bulge, pushing himself into it.  
Taeyong moans Sicheng’s own name in his ear like music, and Sicheng wishes he could live in this moment forever. 

* * *

Sicheng rips away from the lips on his, fuming.  
“No. You don’t get to do this again.”  
He turns and walks out the mouth of the club, shoulders shaking and eyes watering.  
Lee Taeyong is, to keep things short, a large fucking pain in the ass.


End file.
